Pain
by Juliet Norrington
Summary: Mr. Rochester. Jane Eyre. A bed. [Not really canon at all.]


**Title:** Pain

**Author:** Juliet Norrington

**Rating:** R

**Summery:** Mr. Rochester. Jane Eyre. A bed. You deduce the rest.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own "Jane Eyre" or the A&E movie this story is based on. Ha.

**A/N:** Meh. This is a year (or so) old fic I wrote after seeing the A&E version of "Jane Eyre". Loved it, and most of the dialog is taken from the movie. Rest of the story sucks.

**A/N 1/30/05**: I'm not sure this deserves an "R" rating, but I'm leaving it as such because I feel like it. (And it's the only "R" story I have at the moment- I deleted the other a few days ago.) Would like everyone to know that I'm not fond of this piece, I don't think it's very well written. However, I do like the idea that they have sex at this point, and so I'm leaving it up. (It's gotten some nice reviews anyway, and that always helps.) Oh, and I changed the title.

o.O;;

It was impossible.

I ran down the stairs and to my room as fast as I could, tears streaming down my face. I couldn't think, my breath came in jagged gasps. I slammed the door behind me, and threw my bonnet in the corner. In a rush I pulled off my wedding gown and threw it to the floor. My undergarments followed, and soon I was clad only in my shift. I yanked my hair out of the pins that held it together and crawled into bed. I clasped a pillow to my chest and cried into it. There was a knock at the door, and Mrs. Fairfax's voice called,

"Jane? Jane? Do you want something to eat?" I raised my head and sniffed.

"No, thank you, Mrs. Fairfax." I managed. I heard the door close, and a moment later I felt her placing a hand on my back.

"I'm so sorry, my dear," She said. I turned to her, and buried my head in her arms. She stroked my back and murmured softly to me. Eventually my sobs quieted, and I felt exhausted.

"I must go now," Mrs. Fairfax murmured, and I nodded.

"Thank you," I whispered. She smiled, and gave me one last hug. I heard the door open, low, soft voices, and the door closed. I rolled onto my side and clutched my pillow to my breast. My chest heaved with rough, gasping, uneven and uncontrollable breaths. In my mind, I heard his voice, telling me he loved me. I gasped, and closed my eyes tightly. Holding my head in my arms, I felt his hands on my waist and his lips on mine. I moaned and arched my neck.

"Jane? Jane, are you all right?" I heard his voice, but it was not a memory. I rolled over onto my side, and clutched my pillow. I heard footsteps coming towards me, bam, bam, bam. He leaned over me, I could smell his musky scent, and touched my arm. I jerked away and whimpered.

"My God Jane, I'm so sorry," he whispered, put his arm around my waist and pulled me up. I opened my eyes, and looked into his face.

"No, Edward, no," I whispered, trying to push away, but my strength had left me and I rested my head on his shoulder, which was clothed only in a thin white shirt. I began to cry again, my tears fell like the rain which had fallen on us that evening in the garden. I felt his arms around me, on my back, stroking, moving, drifting. His tears fell onto my shift, I could feel it sticking to my flesh.

"Jane, I… I…" he stopped. Took a deep breath. "I love you more than I have ever loved anyone in all of my life. I only wanted to please you, to make you happy," I pushed away to look him in the eyes.

"Please don't say that." I said.

"Why not when it's the truth?" he demanded, shaking me. I sat up, pushed arms off me, and felt my eyes burn.

"You must never say it to me again and I must never say it to you. It is wrong!"

"But how can it be wrong when the two of us love each other as we do?" he asked. "It is wrong for us not to be together!"

I jumped to my knees and moved away from him, "I am a plain-living person, Mr. Rochester,"

"Oh, Mr. Rochester is it!" He interrupted, also getting to his knees.

"I wanted someone who I could love honestly and decently, and someone to love me back properly."

"I doesn't matter who it is-" I cut him off,

"I thought I had that with you, but I was wrong. You led me to believe you where one person but you are really another."

"I am the same as I always was. The same heart, the same mind!" he replied.

"You are a married man!" I cried.

"But I'm still me!"

I turned away, "And when we danced together, happy, and carefree in the drawing room, all the time you knew your wife was locked up there. How could you?" I asked softly.

"What would you have me do, Jane? Devote the rest of my life to her?" His rough tone had a touch of pleading woven into it. I turned to him,

"I could never trust you again," I raised my right eyebrow. There was a pause.

"So you're going to punish me instead?" he asked. "Condemn me to live wretched and die accursed?" My breast was heaving, and I moved towards him.

"And do you think this is easy for me? Do you think I am happy to see you suffering when every nerve in my body is telling me to comfort you?" He clasped my hands in his, and his eyes never strayed from mine. "If I could find a way, in my soul, of reconciling this situation, I would in a moment. But I cannot throw away any respect I have for myself because my heart is tempted. You have a wife. You belong to another." I bowed my head.

"I belong to you!" he shook me, "And you belong to me, we are one soul, Jane!"

"Please help me, please don't say that." He gathered me to him, his arms holding my tightly to his chest. I could feel his want for me through my thin shift. "Please help me to be strong," I whimpered.

"If you only knew how much I love you!" he kissed me. Savagely. Completely. I was helpless against him.

"Kiss me! I need you, Jane!" he pleaded. I had no control over my body. I fell against him, and his hand stroked one of my breasts, and felt the diamond-hard nipple.

"You want me, I can feel your passions are aroused, say you want me! Say it!" he demanded. I couldn't say it, and I couldn't say no. He took my silence for yes, and pushed me down onto the bed.

"Oh, Jane," he whispered, "I love you," his lips ran down my neck, making me arch my neck and groan. I couldn't speak, I could barely breath. Tears were streaming down both of our faces.

All I could see was Edward, his face, his cheeks, his chin, his lips, his eyes. He pulled off his shirt and my night gown and kissed me again as his hips began to move lightly against mine. He somehow managed to kick off his pants while his lips explored my neck and my body. His hands lightly traced lines over my chest, around my breasts and down my stomach. All I could do was moan, and twist, and gasp under his touch.

"Jane, this… is going to hurt…" he whispered, and a moment later, there was pain, and joy, and love, and beauty, and a sense of proof that there is joy in existence that without which the universe will fall apart and collapse. He moved above me, up, down, up, down, in, out, in, out, slowly, slowly, then faster, faster, harder, harder. And we moved, laughing, crying, moaning, breathing. I let my lips drift along his neck.

I kissed his neck, his cheeks, and his lips, our tears mingling, and cries joining together in song. If the world ended at that moment, I would be happy. I would die blissfully happy, and complete, whatever may happen after my death. I was lost in a different reality, and all I knew was the exploding emotions and feelings on and in my body, and his touch. His amazing touch which made me scream, moan, gasp, and laugh. I don't remember when it ended, for the rampant chaos followed deep me into my sleep.


End file.
